


What Time Cannot Erase

by Eureka234



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eureka234/pseuds/Eureka234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Carth/Fem Revan story which is supposed to take place directly after David Gaider's 'Denouement'. Eventual smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There she was. Damn. How was he going to do this again?

Carth took a deep breath, and then another. Time seemed to deceive him. No amount of oxygen could salvage the widow's brain from swirling with uncertainty and an all too familiar peril. Morgana had that same look in her eyes on Telos, except now it was quiet. He wasn't deafened by gunfire, struggling to move, or half blind from exhaustion. Instead of the cloudy hazel of his former love, he gazed upon the blackened eyelashes that encircled the Dark Jedi's steady expression.

The steely, cold interior of the freighter brought back a clear vision of the lights in the Leviathan, spacious and vibrant, but the righteous pride of being a soldier refused to give him the courage to step forward. Not yet. Whenever a woman was concerned his strength crumbled under grief, a weight so destructive it could have been the virulent fumes of a poison grenade. The paralysis a beauty could have on him was a curse. He was tempted to call it tragic, if only to himself.

'What would you have her do instead,' Bastila had said, "make babies?'

Yes, the Jedi disapproves. Of course. Still, Carth supposed he had fallen too far into despair to resist justification for his lust.

Even though it happened hours ago the words planted his feet in one place. Jedi's were not supposed to love, and yet, why didn't it feel like he was about to be struck down at the thought? If anything the very concept…

"Did you want to sit here too?"

Carth was brought back to the cargo hold. Revan uncrossed her legs from her meditation posture on the floor. Well, he wasn't exactly discrete waiting outside the door like a common thug. He had Kelam to thank for this opportunity.

The Admiral was startled. "I, uh, well you know I'm not into all that mind focusing stuff."

It reminded him of the distrust and hatred for Jedi, even though the dark haired gal had helped him to see past it.

"Maybe it could help you," the Dark Jedi suggested as she straightened her back, "given your latest goal to move past revenge."

"You know," Carth began, his hesitation pounded further into oblivion with every step he took toward her. Perhaps she had a point, "you're probably right for, what… the second time ever?"

Revan's lips formed a small smile, "Sit."

That meant she understood the joke. Maybe the lightened mood would help his cause. Slowly he lowered himself down, not further than an arm lengths apart, and crossed his legs.

"Am I doing this right?" he wondered aimlessly. Revan's right blue eye which met his for a fraction of a second.

"Almost," the Sith hesitated.

For a moment Carth was convinced that would be the last of his instruction, so he was pleasantly surprised when the girl took one of his damaged hands in hers and gently curled it into position, as though trying to bandage a wound. She was so beautiful, her flaws only made her more like a partner to him, a mirror of his experiences. The two travellers had felt so close in spirit and yet they had never actually  _touched_  each other before. The thought was invigorating and a relief both at once.

Carth took a deep breath as he remembered why he had brought himself here. No matter what, he had to remember what Mission had said and bring it to her attention.

Revan's work was done. She crossed her legs again and replaced her hands at her center. A mere flicker in his heart ignited stronger as he understood how close they were.

'Jeez, get a room, will ya?' Mission had whined.

He had to say something. He couldn't leave her like this, not after they'd kissed so passionately on the world they'd left behind.

The confession of love on the beach had only been replayed in his head two hundred times since, and it wasn't enough. He wondered if he had said it the right way, in the most efficient manner to please her. The words that she loved him too still felt as distant as Dustill, a piece of his life he only wanted to bring into his arms and hold forever.

The two travellers sat side by side with their eyes closed for a couple of moments. It didn't take long for Revan's perception to attune.

"Are you worried about something?" the girl wondered.

"Do you mean more than Dustill or Bastila, because those two take up the grand majority of my head space?"

Carth felt droplets of sweat form between his fingers. She didn't… she couldn't  _know_.

"Fine." Revan paused. "Your presence feels stronger than before."

Typical of a Jedi to say that!

"Yeah, and your presence only makes a poor man like me wish he had a smarter comeback."

Darn it, why after all these years were women still difficult to understand? Perhaps he didn't know Revan as well as he thought.

_Of course not, she had been a Sith Lord, you depraved idiot!_

Jedi, Sith... what was the difference, anyway? Maybe he was reverting back to his young adult self that was inexperienced and incapable. Even after their many years of loving – and let's face it – occasionally fighting each other, Carth still couldn't decipher what Morgana had thought in her final moments.

_Stop it, Carth, don't think about it! Revan'll figure you out in a heartbeat!_

"I, uh…" the widow's mouth dried as the words left him, "I heard you correctly, didn't I? That you wanted to stay with me? I wasn't – I don't know – under the influence of some Jedi trick when you responded back there? Because I've never felt more like in a dream than when you did."

His breath stuttered and heat radiated off his cheeks as Carth braced himself for impact.

Revan chuckled, "It was real."

"Thank God." Carth sighed. Suddenly the meditation posture wasn't so strenuous to uphold, in fact, he felt stronger. His neck softened and he felt grounded, as though he'd been glued to the rumbling floor underneath. This was how meditation was supposed to go.

There was a break in conversation.

And then another one.

"You'd be an expert at reading minds by now with all the training Bastilla's given you," Carth challenged, "Come on. Give it a try." He hesitated, "I dare you. I bet you can't do it."

The soldier tried not to grin as he felt Revan's amusement next to him, but no, he didn't let his mind wander. This had to be a fair fight. He took a deep breath, and as the cool air rushed inside, his body awakened as violently as if he'd been freed from Leviathan's blinding cage. As life filled his lungs he gazed upon his forbidden with unwavering admiration. They were at the beach, and she was gorgeous, as lovely and patient as he knew her to be. A Dark Jedi could never conjure such kindness, there was no way she was anything other than what he had known. Keeping his stance steady, he stepped toward her. His feet sunk into the sand, but she didn't recoil. Mission and their companions turned away without question. Nearly too fast, their noses touched and he leaned in. God, she was  _really_  pale. He could almost touch his eyelashes on her cheek.

"Let me guess." Revan muttered, the words not matching the fantasy in his head, "Do you want to kiss me again?"

"Y-Yes." Carth replied, sharply brought back to the ship. He didn't expect she'd get it right on the first try, "Nice job, Revan."

The nerves started to go. About time they did, too. A warmth gradually trickled through him, and it was impossible to tell if it was from his insatiable lust, love or simply the Force. How did Jedi do this stuff?

"Bastilla likes to say nothing is coincidence," Revan explained slowly, "so I don't think you should be ashamed of how you feel."

There was the sound of robes against the ground, but the soldier stayed put.

"Well, I don't want to take Bastilla's word for anything anymore, personally."

His breathing deepened. This meditation might even be working. How was it supposed to feel again?

"Maybe not," Revan admitted. She was in front of him. Her voice had changed location, "but you can take  _my_  word for it, can't you?"

Carth opened his eyes in shock. He wasn't dreaming. Or maybe he was. All he could see was her closed eyelids and that snowy white skin as though she'd been without the sun for years. One could suppose that came from wearing a helmet? Almost panicked, he felt her lips. She had pressed them to his slowly and softly, and he was feeling anything but gentle. Revan's skin was rough, tainted, damaged by the harsh winds and tough conflicts of fugitives, but it was all these details that made him cherish her.

"R-Revan!" he uttered, breathless, taken aback, and all the same so wanting of her. Could they really do this? Could he? Could  _she_?

Revan pulled away and observed him cautiously. The scar near her cheekbone crinkled.

Revan wouldn't meet Morgana's fate. He would not allow it.

"You're scared," the girl mentioned, "and yet you want more."

"I…"

Why did she have to be right? There was no way the tease was going to let him get away with this. Wait, why did he want to? Carth had done nothing but imagine her against him in multiple different ways, with varying articles of clothing, over the past month or so, and yet he was denying himself this pleasure?

Morgana… deserved better than this. His original trouble maker would put him in an arm lock if she could see. Her cute bony nose would crease in the same way Revan's scar did, but in rage. She had been the  _very_  jealous type.

"This is terrible timing to feel this way, but I can remember my wife – all of a sudden - Morgana's face…" Carth explained. The words were as jumbled as his thoughts, racing through over a decade of memories he thought he'd lost forever: their first date, her wedding dress, Dustill's birth – accompanied with complications, as fate would have it. Beyond that, there was her smile and her laugh. His voice shuddered, "she… she was as beautiful as you are, and obviously you can't compete with each other because she's dead. Oh boy, you probably want to hit me too, right? Just – do it in a sexy way if you have to." He raised his arms in defense, completely forgetting meditation. His voice cracked, bordering on tears, "I just… don't you feel it as well? I want to love you like I did to her." Not the children part, not yet anyway, just the sex. Oh but there was no way in hell he was going to say it like that, "I want her to forgive me for… everything."

Was the Jedi as dense as in the beginning or had Revan learned something over time? Funnily enough, the girl smiled.

"She does." Revan nodded, "You've proven yourself above and beyond to be worthy of forgiveness. Don't you think she'd want you to be happy?"

"I…yes. If you're sure." Carth hunched his spine. Even in the wisdom of her words the guilt still didn't completely disappear, "I'm sorry for wrecking the moment. I know you're right, absolutely. I just want to be with you in as much capacity as I can, before…"

Revan placed a hand on his shoulder. This time it was warm. Her confidence was inspiring, even her touch was certain. It didn't shake or ponder its next move, she simply reached out, and he adored her for that.

"I understand. You want us to actually 'get a room'." The Sith acknowledged as she stood to her feet. "I'm going to see what rations we have in this freighter, but if you're feeling up for it, meet me at my room after. I'll make sure we're not disturbed."

"Of course." Carth nodded. He was still on such a high from remembering his wife's face that the soldier was at a loss as to which compliment to burst out first, "Thank you. I appreciate everything you've done. I… I'll meditate on this." those Jedi games were good for something, right? "I'm sure by tonight…"

"You're doing a terrible job so far," Revan said. She stepped further toward the door, "just imagine you're somewhere relaxing and place all your worries by a tree. If your mind drifts with your feelings, let it. You may get some inspiration."

Carth forced a smile. It was a lot to take in, but the limits were set. Now he had to focus on settling himself.

"I love you." He said. "Gorgeous."

The sentiment was supposed to remind her of their first bout of teasing together back on Taris, but whether it worked or not was uncertain.

"Moment wrecker." The girl teased.

_It could be interpreted both ways, I guess._

Carth chuckled to himself, so slow on the uptake that he only came up with a comeback after she'd left.

"Yeah, I'll get you for that one later, smarty pants."


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors Notes:_  I listened to "Across the Stars" from the Star Wars soundtrack while writing this. It was pretty epic. Please R&R.

* * *

There wasn't much left to do. The crew had discovered the food and it appeared that they would arrive at Manaan soon.

Kelam peered over at Carth, disdain on every inch of his face. There was more than an average meal churning in Carth's stomach, and the pilot was the first to comment on it.

"You don't look right, Onasi." He observed. "Did Revan's tongue get lost at the back of your throat?"

"If it did, I would probably spare you the details." Carth said with an edge of sarcasm.

Kelam often responded to questions with a tone of finality, but this time his voice was light. Clearly he had spotted what happened on their last moments on Coruscant.

"Aw, and I was hoping to be entertained, Admiral." The pilot smiled, "You've dealt with enough crap to last you forever."

"And don't I know it," Carth laughed airily. Jokes aside, his companion couldn't have offered a better opening, "Now that you mention it, do you mind if Revan and I… get comfortable in one of the rooms?"

Kelam pressed some buttons and placed his hands behind his head. "You're really asking my permission, Admiral?"

Carth chuckled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The Republican stepped back from the cockpit, distancing himself from his duty. It felt wrong to deny Kelam of company, especially considering what he was about to do, but deep down Carth understood that the regret of refuting his love would be much worse.

"Knock yourself out, Admiral." Kelam murmured, not looking at him.

Carth uttered a noise halfway between a grunt and a snort, gave the pilot a short wave, and proceeded toward Revan's room as fast as he could without looking  _too_  desperate.

* * *

The floor rumbled. The freighter liked to creak under pressure and this was no exception. Carth approached Revan's room feeling off balance. There was a little over half an hour until they reached their destination.

The ship was cramped, but it felt odd to not be in the main chain of command. Carth preferred helping on the ship than one of the droids. The beeping was enough to give him a headache, and that was only the first problem he had with machines. Just knowing she was beyond that door… it summoned the same knot in his stomach when he visited Telos. Morgana's grave. Perhaps his attraction could be considered a positive malady…just this once.

The ship sharply jerked from a sharp turn and Carth stumbled in a way so pathetic he was glad no one else was around.

To stop himself pelting back and checking nothing more serious was occuring, Carth punched the door instead of knocking, ready to - he didn't know - hit something else.

Revan was quick to answer. The metal clamps sprung apart with a gush and the widow nearly tripped inside in his stupor.

A lot of the sound tucked away when the doors closed again. Thankfully.

Mentally exhausted, Carth's eyes lowered. Revan was meditating on the bed and – what a surprise - had used her Force powers to open the door. Show off.

"You nearly got away from me there, gorgeous," Carth tried to smile, but he couldn't help wondering if they were under attack.

The soldier awkwardly brushed his hands on his legs, trying to stay calm.

"We don't have a lot of time until our descent."

Revan's icy blue eyes met his and he nearly lost his breath. Beauty was not an adequate word. Her dark hair was poised delicately over her shoulders. She'd taken them out of their plaits… to impress him, no doubt. Darn it, she could dance in a Cantina for him any day and he'd never have a reason to leave one again, even if the meal was greasy.

"What did you have in mind?" Revan asked pleasantly, but her tone didn't reach her face. It was… intimidating.

"Uh, I was hoping you could tell me that." Carth responded, wishing he had more to say. "You're the Jedi. You're the one who's supposed to know everything, right?"

The soldier wanted to kick himself. He swore he'd never use that defense mechanism again! Why couldn't he snap out of it?

Revan raised a steely eyebrow.

There was never complete silence in a ship thanks to the soft buzzing, but it was still an unwelcome break from conversation. It had been too long since Carth had engaged in physical contact with anyone, well, not counting fist fights and violent encounters. The very inkling of even holding hands was more foreign than he wanted to admit, and boy, did he want to do more with her than just interlock fingers.

Revan smirked and ran a hand under her Jedi robe, "Would taking  _this_  off help at all?"

"Hey, let's not go crazy here!" Carth blurted out. He raised his hands defensively as an automatic reflex, rambling in the high speed jumble only he knew how to do. "Y-You're not wrong, Revan. I can't pretend I'm confident here. I mean, I've had Dustill, I'm not inexperienced - really who knows how many times I've done it - but Morgana's just  _one_  woman. I'm out of practice. I don't even know if we have enough time, if that's even what you –"

The room shuddered violently as a bang crashed down from somewhere above them. Just as swiftly, the comparison was mercilessly forced upon him like a chain he could never break. He saw Morgana in her face, Carth could recall how his wife mumbled his name in the heat of the moment, the peculiar twitching of her ankles when he touched her in the right way. Yet the sensations were as useless as fantasy. It couldn't provide any insight, not here.

The widow tried to remember how to play the right cards in this type of situation, his jaw tight. Was it appropriate to just slide his hands a little up? Or maybe down was the better direction? The prelude to foreplay was elusive and sly, as sneaky as the smile that graced his forbidden.

"I've seen into your head, Carth," Revan said slowly, recovering quickly from the interruption, "As nervous as you are, I know that if I did…" she brought her hands back to her lap, "get rid of these clothes that you wouldn't  _protest_."

In spite of being presented with the most obvious, reckless invitation the soldier pushed it away. Why? How was this helpful?

"Not exactly, but you're jumping the gun here, Revan." Carth bit the inside of his mouth and stormed forward to sit next to her. "Don't mistake me when I say you're gorgeous, you are, but…"

Yes? What was his excuse this time? Had she immobilized him with the Force? It certainly felt that way! Not a chance, he had to shut up about Jedi and be a man.

A  _real_  man.

Even at a few inches, her presence provided no comfort to his dread.

_Do something!_

Despite Carth's rising pulse the Admiral could do nothing but try to pretend he was in the cockpit with Kalem. There wasn't a beautiful woman next to him, the room was empty… it might as well be deserted for what might occur, well, at any moment now!

Another bang pierced the silence.

"I admire you getting to the point and everything – you're good at that - but what," Carth's voice started to shake, "w-what if we…"

Obviously putting up with an Onasi wasn't what the Sith had the patience for tonight.

Before his anxiety attack could settle Revan pulled Carth's head toward hers and pressed their mouths together. He uttered a gasp of protest, wanting to throw some insult at her, but too many emotions were making themselves known at a rate too agile for his mind to process. Her hands were cold, but somehow comforting. They helped him feel better about his sweaty palms, anyway.

Carth's hand fell to her knee and, in the dark; he tried to sense what she wanted.

He had nothing.

 _Damn it, Revan,_  he thought, as a groan came forth to express it. Revan didn't care for his reaction. As swift, precise and direct as her combat skill the Jedi ran Carth's clammy hand up her thigh and….  _down_.

 _Well, at least one of us isn't a wimp,_  Carth thought.

In a flood of heat, the soldier forgot about time constraints. The actions were as awkward as HK-47 trying to have appropriate social skills. He separated two of his fingers and tried to find the spot that would drive her crazy. Trying to multitask between kisses, wondering if Kalem was flying into rubble on purpose, and fumbling like a fool underneath a woman's robe was no easy task.

Because she was a massive show off and a cheater, the gap between Carth and Revan's legs on the edge of the bed was closed with… well…the change gave the widow the leverage he needed to… make her utter  _that_  noise. Ha. Canderous would be proud. Revan explored his mouth with her tongue between breathless gasps, as he felt the restless need to fidget. The amount of sexual tension in the room was getting bothersome. They really had to stop. He couldn't get out of his armour given what lay ahead. Damn it! This was unfair!

"Did you used to do this to guards way back when?" Carth murmured, "Actually, don't answer that. I don't…"

Revan wasn't listening. She ran a line of kisses up the side of Carth's neck and ended with nibbling his ear lobe. Why did it have to feel good? Revan  _was_  evil! If Morgana was anything to go by Revan's robe must be close to being wet by now. If only they had the chance to actually take off their clothes. It would be quite a sight.

Their oppressive rush was interrupted by the freighter as it took a sharp turn, making the couple almost fall over, but Carth saved himself with the bedside. Revan did too. Struggling to catch their breath, they caught eyes for a moment. His forbidden didn't look cold now, but distraught. Reality was cruel, and it was about to hit them over the head.

Kalem's voice rang through the door.

"Admiral! We're about to land on Manaan." His voice grew louder, "Get your clothes back on!"

Life loved to do this to him, didn't it? Wiping his sweaty hand on the bed he didn't break eye contact with the one he desired most.

"I'll be there in a moment!" he yelled, not even trying to hide his displeasure. It wasn't Kalem's fault, but hell, he'd still pretend it was!

Their departure couldn't have been more frustrating. Carth planted a quick kiss on Revan's cheek as he stormed off, hoping his concentration hadn't been ruined.

"I'm sorry, Revan." he finished, taking a last look at the Sith's gorgeous, albeit lacking modesty. Carth punched open the door, wishing he could break the console instead. He wasn't sure how easy it would be to resume their session when Dustill came into the picture. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to "Across the Stars" from the Star Wars soundtrack while writing this. It was pretty epic. Please R&R.


	3. Chapter 3

"I liked Dustil. Dustil's his name."

Carth smiled, tearing away from the warm bundle to peer down at his wife. The smell was wretched but at least she was now in blankets, nearly asleep from exhaustion. The fluorescent lighting made the hospital room seem like it was part of a laboratory. It was far harsher than he would have liked. Morgana was finally able to rest, even the sweat had stopped dripping down her face.

Then why couldn't his fingers stop trembling?

The soldier felt as destroyed as his wife looked, sick and lightheaded. The number of times he'd nearly passed out during her labour was embarrassing, but Carth had done what Morgana asked. Be supportive; try not to go crazy from the adrenaline, try not to cry – that had not worked – but after all the drama, he had a gorgeous son to prove the struggle wasn't for nothing.

 _A son. He's –my- son,_  Carth thought.

The full impact of the title still didn't sit well with him. They were empty words, as useless as all the medical jargon the nurses were spouting some feet away; even now his babe,  _Dustil,_  wasn't at risk of dying.

God, it felt good to have it over with. What lay ahead was still daunting – he couldn't prepare any more for parenthood than anyone else, yet the thought was still volatile. He didn't want to think about it.

"Carth…" Morgana mumbled, and he saw her mouth move to say "I'm sorry."

Here came the excuses – sorry I'm a failure. Sorry things went wrong. Sorry you had to see. Sorry for being a rational human being. Her husband prepared to discount every single one of her silly apologies, only her next words were interrupted by a horrible sound.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppppp…

" _What_?!" a nurse and Carth practically raced to her side but the husband got there first. He lay Dustil down, placed a hand to her cheek, and shouted something but didn't know what it was, drowned by the announcements from medical personnel. Morgana's wavy brown hair brushed over her face and she felt cold. The nurse had vanished.

* * *

 

He was alone. He hadn't been in the hospital reliving Dustil's birth. Everything, no matter how small, seemed to lead back to that feeling of horror that heightened his senses back on Telos. Suddenly his darling's features were shadowed by the smoke in the air. It had been a trick. Morgana was in his arms, splattered with blood and soot, and he was in denial, filled with rage and despair. The only flickers of light illuminating her round features were the embers flying off destroyed buildings.

"Medics!" he cried, trying to wave an arm to them. His voice was hoarse, not the smooth collected tone he was known for, "Get here now!  _Now_! It's my wife! My  _wife_! She n-n-needs help! She…. She's dying!"

In that moment her pulse ceased to be. She was already dead, but he didn't want to know that. He didn't want to believe it. The medics could still save her.

"Morgana, hold on." he told her, planting a kiss on her forehead, "You can't go, not yet… I – there was so much we were going to do."

Carth curled up in a ball and sheets crinkled around him. He was in an unfamiliar bed again, this time a hotel. Yes. They had looked the rest of the afternoon for Dustill, but hadn't succeeded. They had leads so it wasn't a waste of the evening. Carth just begged he could find that sneaky teenager tomorrow.

It was warm underneath the blankets but the memories chilled him to the stomach. Why did the night have to go so awful? Not being able to find Dustill straight away was disappointing, but not nearly as irritating as failing to make up for it.

It wasn't that Carth was bad at flirting. On the contrary he was quite good at it. He just didn't take the steps he wanted. Perhaps it was because he saw Revan as more than a pretty face that he hesitated. Between purchasing supplies, dancing with her and giving Revan a kiss goodnight, at the end of it all the two departed to their separate bedrooms, forgetting their earlier encounter on the freighter. Or perhaps only she had forgotten. He couldn't push her from his mind after all they'd endured together, remembering his atrocious dancing was like being hit over the head.

"I wonder if she's still awake." Carth mumbled aloud, in an attempt to block out the horrible pictures of his wife. "Even if she was – possibly hungover, too - would she care that I am?"

Could she sense his awakening somehow? Were her powers muted by the powers of alcohol? He hadn't dealt with such vivid nightmares since he forgot Morgana's face. It was a loss he both lamented and was pleased for. Right now, there were a number of ways to proceed. He could try to fall back asleep, which knowing him would take a number of hours at least, and take his chances trying to woo his lady in the morning. He could have a shower and hope Revan would wake up and seek him out on her own, or he could step into the unknown and approach Revan himself. Only one answer fit with the persona he was proud of. "Well, Revan, you better prepare yourself because I sure as hell am not staying here."

There was no way he was going wait until morning. For the first time in four years he felt it was acceptable to receive help –  _request_  it, from somebody.

Bracing himself for the inevitable rush of cold, Carth swung his legs over the side of the bed and head toward the door. His head whirled uncomfortably as though it had been filled with metal. All that remained was deciding how to brush it off if their intentions misaligned.

Her door was not far, but it might as well have been at the end of the hall for how daunting the task felt.

He couldn't believe he was doing this. Interrupting such a moody woman at this hour? He was insane. Perhaps it could be written on his official transcript of achievements.

"Revan?' Carth knocked, his knuckles burning, "If you're awake… I'm not sure how to say this. I'd really like it if you could open the door. I want to…"

Revan's hotel door unlocked and opened silently by itself.

"…talk to you." He finished lamely.

The bedside table light illuminated Revan's face. From her alertness it was difficult to know she'd slept at all. She was sitting up in the bed and her expression was stony - a usual for her. "Nice to see you, flyboy."

"Have you slept?" he blurted out, "I mean – you look more awake than I do. Probably more up there than security, now that I think about it."

"I did." Revan responded, "It was light sleep, though. You, on the other hand, must be freezing your butt off in those..uh…."

He was standing in her doorway in his ivory shirt and boxer shorts – she had never seen this much of his legs or arms. It made him mildly self-conscious.

"They're boxers." Carth said with a sarcastic undertone, "I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't heard of them. You know, since you Jedi barely wear clothes. Sith even less so, if my memory serves correctly."

This was where he was either going to crumble in a pool of anxiety, make a fool out of himself or a mixture of the two. The soldier slowly stepped inside and the door closed behind him with the slightest click.

"I couldn't sleep, to tell you the truth," he admitted.

He didn't know what the next step was. Could he sit on the chair in the corner of the room? "I think because of you the nightmares of Morgana are starting to return. They weren't as painful before when I couldn't remember her face, but I doubt you want to hear about it." He pointed toward the bed, "Can I sit?"  
"That's a good question." Revan said with a small smirk. 'Can you?"

Carth smiled. "If I know you like I think I do, I'll take that as a yes."

At least he wouldn't have to raise his voice anymore. As the widow sat on the side of the bed, Revan sat up straighter, letting the covers fall off her. She was wearing a simple gown. It made her… damn, he wished Morgana would get out of his head.

"Did you think talking about it would help?" Revan raised an eyebrow, "If so, I'm impressed. You're learning fast, flyboy."

"Hey, don't get all high and mighty with me now, sister." Carth shot back, "Maybe I am learning. Maybe you're wrong, perhaps some deluded part of me wanted an excuse to… see you instead."

"Oh?" Revan seemed interested, "why would that be, I wonder?"

Carth rest his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. Why did she have to pick  _now_  not to use her Jedi mind trick? "Now you're challenging me. How do I put this? I feel there is unfinished business between us. I know my mind won't stop bothering me about it until I get off my sorry backside and do something. So what happened back in the freighter…" Revan waited patiently for Carth to finish. "Was it what you wanted? Because I'm telling you now I wanted to do more than what we  _did_  do, a lot more."

"The Republican finally admits to his weakness." Revan said smugly. She leaned forward, "It was what I wanted."

Amazingly, his forbidden moved over enough to leave room for one more to fit beside her. "The space is free, if you want it."

Carth's breath was punched out of his chest. He had  _hoped_ , but he hadn't been sure this was allowed, "O- of course. I.. I'm honoured. Just give me a moment. It's… been a while. I hope you can understand."

He chuckled to himself, hoping to ease his nerves. Cautiously, as though trying to disable a mine, Carth pulled away part of the covers and slipped underneath. It felt almost  _too_  familiar, and that bothered him. Revan  _wasn't_  his ex-wife, and yet he couldn't forget Morgana either. Perhaps he had to start making new memories. If he was really lucky embracing his heart's desire might make the pain near tolerable.

Pulling the covers up close to him, he shivered. Even though Revan had warmed this space it was chilly. He was shocked to feel Revan's fingers interlock with his.

"So how about you tell me about that dream you had?" she said softly. Relief washed over Carth's features. It was nice to know that she wasn't going to pounce on him the moment she got and take this moment to tease him.

He did as she asked, attempted to quiet his demons and recalled every detail to how he remembered it. As the Admiral did so, a new memory surfaced, one that felt fresh given its age.

He was with Morgana, positioned behind her on their stained bedsheets, rubbing her shoulders as she silently wept, struggling to breastfeed her wailing son, their child. They had to speak loudly to block out the high pitched horror.

"This is so stupid!" she complained, "I'm tired! I'm sick of  _being_  tired. Why can't men have to deal with this?"

"Be patient, stunner. Dustil is just stubborn." Carth's voice was monotone and robotic, "he'll get it eventually."

"If only he hadn't inherited your slowness." Morgana chuckled. It was a hollow laugh, the sort of voice which had all the life drained from it. Carth tried to rub her shoulders in a more nurturing way.

"I'll let you have that one." He kissed her on the head, "Just this once, stunner."

"Whatever, stud."

Carth chuckled. Exhausted, he rest his head on hers. "It'll be just a memory one day, and then I can go back to being the one screaming."

Her laugh, which had felt so close at the time, merely echoed and drowned away.

"Flyboy, what's going on?"

_What?_

Carth was suddenly back in the hotel room, only he felt sick to his stomach. The memory had been a bittersweet one, but it hurt all the more knowing it was just weaved into his nightmares, into the grief he couldn't contest. Revan's hand had gotten sweaty underneath his. Feeling like he'd cheated her, Carth removed his fingers and wiped it on his boxer shorts. "It was just a flashback, I guess; don't let it worry you too much. I didn't think it could get this bad."

"I want to help if I can." Revan said earnestly. Carth peered into her eyes and saw them shining with worry, not just that blankness she pulled off so well. "What can I do?"

"I don't know how long it'll be until fate pulls us apart," Carth began, "Part of me thinks we'll never be free from what we've built. We've attracted too much attention. I don't want to be stuck the past anymore, lamenting it for the rest of my life." He leaned forward. Their noses were almost touching, "but I want to remember what it feels like to be close to someone again. You've helped a great deal with that. I finally feel like I can trust you. Call me a typical male if you like but I want more." He averted his eyes, "I'm sorry, I sound stupid. I guess I was hoping that – if I'm lucky – I could feel what it is like to lay near someone again, give her my all." He tried to look at her, but she was struggling too. "I want it to be you, if you're willing… and ready, of course."

Revan ran her fingers through his hair and Carth nearly groaned from the relief of the gesture.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be, flyboy." She murmured.

Carth hesitated. Her words were a burden lifted from his shoulders, but the notion didn't feel complete. Was that all it took? "I suppose I can't argue with you on that one, can I?"

If it was possible Carth kissed her with more finesse than she did him back in the freighter. The situation was so… fragile, it didn't feel right to rush things, or even try and take the lead. He wanted to remember the passion without the pain, compassion without sorrow, the reason he was fighting in the first place. Perhaps that was too much to ask? An honest, genuine moment was so rare to come by these days.

It seemed wrong that there was no Mission or explosions to interrupt their privacy, only a beating in his head from the tension.

 _Normal people get nice moments like this! You deserve some normalcy, Fleet,_  he scolded himself.  _Come on. Stop making a fuss over every little thing._

Revan seemed to copy him, moving a hand when he did, deepening their kiss at he pushed against her. My god, she was freezing, but so soft as well… Carth lost his breath as he ran his fingers up the side of her ribs, just exploring what he had missed. Closeness. Intimacy. Trusting was such a difficult task, and yet when its rewards showed he felt crazy not to rely on others.

Carth pulled away.

"I really want to look at you –  _all_  of you." He said quietly, afraid the walls were like paper, "Is that… you're not offended by the request, right? Please tell me if you are."

"Does it look like I am?" Revan asked. There was a faint twinkle in her eye.

Carth was about to respond when the girl lifted her nightgown over her head, exposing what little of her muscly torso had been left to the imagination. Her skin was barely lit by the bedside lamp, but it was enough. What wasn't toned and muscular was near skeletal. Her collarbone poked out and there wasn't much weight to her breasts. He looked just as slim so Carth couldn't blame her. Their rations only satisfied at the best of times.

Unable to form words, trying to hide his admiration for her confidence, Carth wrapped his arms around her.

"You are more beautiful than words can give credit for." He whispered, as he planted a kiss on her neck. "Before I lose my last inkling of sanity, I have to ask: what would you like me to do? I don't mean to get ahead of myself but I am pretty flexible, either way is fine with me: up, down, sideways… diagonal…dangling in mid-air if you Force wielders are into that," he peered into her eyes, trying to read them before she could speak. "I'm all yours, beautiful."

Out of all the snarky responses she could have given, the soldier didn't expect his forbidden would throw the question back at him.

"Wherever you think you work best, handsome."

**Author's Note:**

> I only just finished playing KOTOR for the first time the past month! I loved it. I noticed a considerable lack of Carth/Fem Revan smut online, so I tried to make my own. Title is in reference to the Evanescence song 'My Immortal' as I figure it is perfect for Carth! Read David Gaider's fic first!


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